A while ago this past summer, I was at youth group. I was sitting with some of my high school friends, when they said some very devestating news. They said that David (Three) was moving five hours away to Yakima. All of a sudden it seemed like the world was spiraling around me. I ran to bathroom and started to cry. Looking back now, after a year, I would love to have been able to say goodbye. But, goodbye isn't a remembered last word. I wanted him to remember me.
YOU ARE READING
The Pocket Boy
Storie breviMy life story and how one boy scarred me forever, and how loosing friends didn't define me. Three Pocket Boys, two past, one present.
